


of quiet roads and whiskey

by writevale



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Canon Asexual Character, Discussions of Asexuality, Multi, Oblivious Jon, Prompt Fill, The MagnACE Archives, jon & daisy bffls, sex-neutral/sex-favourable ace, the man is baffled
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:01:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21907876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writevale/pseuds/writevale
Summary: 'That's . . . how sexual attraction tends to work, Jon.' She tilts her head slightly. Whether in confusion or amusement or some mix of the two, Jon can't tell. He lets out a dry, disgusted sound from the back of his throat.'No, that's - people don't really want to have sex with random strangers solely because they have some kind of appealing assortment of physical characteristics.' His head seems to sink on his neck in disbelief as Daisy quirks an eyebrow at him. 'Do they?'-A fill for a prompt over at The MagnACE Archives: Daisy tries to explain sexual attraction to a skeptical Jon.
Relationships: (pre-relationship), Basira Hussain/Alice "Daisy" Tonner, Jonathan Sims & Alice "Daisy" Tonner, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Comments: 77
Kudos: 782
Collections: The MagnACE Archives (SFW)





	of quiet roads and whiskey

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a fill for the following prompt over at [The MagnACE Archives](https://the-magnace-archives.dreamwidth.org/) (which is a really lovely place that we should all check out and contribute to!!):  
>  _'In an attempt to fend off the Lonely, Jon and Daisy are hanging out in the Archives one night and maybe drinking a little too much whiskey when things get personal, and Jon finally has the opportunity to ask the question all ace people are baffled by: people don't really want to have sex with random strangers just because they look good, right? That's not a thing? Cue Daisy trying to explain sexual attraction and Jon insisting that the whole thing sounds fake but also incredibly inconvenient.'_

The Archivist throws off the tattered blanket from his shoulders in a dynamic gesture of incredulity. The whiskey he and Daisy have been steadily consuming for the last hour has turned him into a lithe and fluid thing in the flickering amber light of the lamp on his desk, more prone to heated outbursts of opinion instead of the simmering disbelief and paranoia his co-workers have grown to expect.

The alcohol curls a stillness into Daisy. Jon knows, of course he _knows_ , that she can still smell the Blood. But the whiskey dulls her senses enough to be able to recline in one of the office chairs, to chuckle softly over at Jon as though neither of them can feel the oppressive, misty weight of the Lonely as it seeps through the cracks in the Institute.

'I don't believe it.' Jon insists. Daisy laughs harder. 'In the _police car_?!'

'Look, the road was really quiet-'

'And how long had you known each other?' Jon runs his fingers through the greying flyaways at his temple. Stressed, like an appalled parent. Daisy bites her lip, the mirth in her eyes warmer than the burn of the whiskey in their throats. A tight, shocked sound comes from the back of Jon's throat.

'Oh, don't clutch your pearls, Sims!'

'I'm not!' He protests vehemently, 'I'm not.' He reaches a slender hand out to the bottle on the desk. They both pretend not to notice the gap between the current fluid level and where it was when they started. Jon stares at the flow of the whiskey, almost honey-bright in the dim lighting. He stares and it's like a curtain is falling across his eyes. Perhaps the hunter's instinct hasn't quite left Daisy, because she shifts forwards suddenly, forcing eye contact.

'What is it?'

'What? Nothing!' Jon makes a mess of trying to get the cap back on the bottle. Daisy takes it from him silently and he folds his hands into his lap.

'I know you, Jon.'

'It's - nothing.'

She settles back into her chair slowly. A perfect show of _look at me, I'm letting this go because **I** want to, not for your benefit. _Jon's fists clench in the discarded blanket. 'Alright.' She appears to concede. 'I'm just saying, if you have question-'

'-I just don't get it.' Jon erupts, 'Sure, Basira is - nice. But you really expect me to believe that you just saw her and decided to have -?' Daisy blinks.

'That's . . . how sexual attraction tends to work, Jon.' She tilts her head slightly. Whether in confusion or amusement or some mix of the two, Jon can't tell. He lets out a dry, disgusted sound from the back of his throat.

'No, that's - people don't really want to have sex with random strangers solely because they have some kind of appealing assortment of physical characteristics.' His head seems to sink on his neck in disbelief as Daisy quirks an eyebrow at him. ' _Do they?_ '

'Ye-ep.'

Jon flounders for a complete sentence. 'So you know who you want to have sex with just from looking at them?'

'Yeah - like - oh, God. Do you actually want me to explain this to you?' Daisy shuffles awkwardly in her seat. Jon's face twists even further into disbelief at the thought of someone not sharing knowledge with him.

'Of course. This is bizarre to me.'

'I'm not giving you a statement.'

'I'm not _asking_ you to!'

'Right.' Daisy straightens up, 'So, imagine you're out in public, in a bar or - God, I don't know - a library or-'

'- A police station?' Jon suggests lightly, almost playfully. Daisy's pale cheeks colour.

'Enough of that.' She takes a sip of her drink, 'Right, so you're in your public place of choice, someone walks in and you think 'they're lush' and if you play your cards right, you go home with them.'

'Or to the nearest available-'

' _Enough_.'

Jon chews this over. 'I still don't understand.'

'You know, you see an attractive person and you imagine what they might look like without their clothes on and then you find out.' She puts a toe on an uncrossed boundary. 'Do you find people attractive?'

'Yes! Of course! Or - No? Maybe not in the same way as you, it would seem. I might, you know, think: oh, wow, that person has such striking hair, or that -' He closes one eye, circles his hand around at the wrist. Some kind of word-summoning ritual. ' _Jumper_ fits them so well. But that doesn't - that's never translated to thinking about having sex with them.'

Daisy is smiling at him, abject fondness melting away the usual hardness in her gaze and the unrelenting press of the Lonely through the gap under the office door. Jon finds that he likes it. Wants to lean into it and just feel the casual warmth of an uncomplicated friendship. Even though she's clearly amused at what he's saying it's nice to be able to try articulate these questions to someone at all.

'It just sounds fake.'

Daisy outright laughs at this. A soft bark in the quiet. 'How would one night stands exist otherwise?'

'Well,' Jon grumbles. It's time for his cheeks to darken, though his tanned skin hides it much better. 'I always thought people were actually seeking long-term romantic partners and that was a - um - clumsy attempt at doing that. Oh, _stop laughing._ '

'Sometimes you find that the only way you're compatible with someone is sexually.' Daisy's tone is matter of fact but she's still smirking around a suppressed laugh. Jon pulls a face at this.

'Bizarre.' He mumbles before his eyes light up with a sudden thought, 'If you're selecting on aesthetics alone you must end up sleeping with absolute arseholes.' This is enough to trip Daisy into laughter again.

'Yeah.' She agrees, 'Although, in fairness, I am usually the arsehole in those situations.' She kicks out a long leg in Jon's direction at his rumbly murmur of agreement.

They fall quiet, tending to their drinks. Jon listens to the creak of the old building, subconsciously trying to catch the echo of footsteps from above. He's worried that Martin is still upstairs, doing God knows what to God knows what end. In any case, the absence of the buzzing whir of a tape recorder is a relief. Some conversations don't need to be heard. He wonders what Martin would do if they tried to drag him down here to drink with them. All the times he tried to get Job out to the pub and now-

'Isn't it -?'

'What?' Daisy pours them both another healthy measure and takes a long drink.

'Really fucking inconvenient?'

The question is enough to make Daisy almost spit with her snort of laughter. She wipes away a dribble of whiskey from her chin and the pitiful look she gives him makes Jon laugh hard enough to spill some of his own drink on his shirt. He makes a low, disgruntled sound, dabbing at the wet patch with the blanket.

'Oh, dear, we're drunk.' The drink has loosened the collar on Daisy's Welsh accent and tapped R's roll out of her mouth like the purring of a great cat. Jon grins. 'And yes, it can be annoying. Like,' She leans forward again, less controlled now, 'Like, imagine: you have a really hot boss, right? And, you know, maybe they're not conventionally that attractive, but you're definitely sexually attracted to them.' Jon winces and Daisy, oblivious to just how oblivious Jon is, continues, 'And so, at least once a day, maybe when you bring them a cup of tea or they're telling you about a statement, you're not really listening, you're thinking about bending them over the desk.' She drinks, staring Jon out like she's trying to communicate something else with just her eyes. 'That must be really inconvenient, I'd say.'

He pales. Sets his drink down on the desk with a wooden thump.

'Daisy, I - um - I thought - you and Basira?'

'Oh, _GOD_. No! No, no. Jon,' She's laughing again but not unkindly, 'I'm sure you're someone's cup of tea but no. Basira and I are - well. I wanted to kill you, remember?'

'Hah.' Jon is aware that a sigh of relief at that memory is a little incongruous, but he whistles one out anyway. They look at each other. Grin.

'I still think it's fake.'

She shrugs, 'You're a grown man, Sims, I'm not going to tell you what to feel for people.' His grin gets wider, he'd forgotten just how excellent Daisy's prosaic bluntness could be.

'Daisy,' He picks his drink up again, 'I know that _certain people_ around the Archives have . . . speculated about my - sex life - or, lack thereof. But I would rather this conversation wasn't passed on - um, please.'

'No problem.'

'Thank you.'

'Oh, also, Jon.'

'Yes?'

'If Basira finds out what I told you tonight, I'm going to tell her you Compelled me to tell you. Then, I'll make it so you never have to wonder about sexual attraction ever again, okay?'

A pause.

Jon's palms start to sweat.

'Yep. Yeah. That's - of course.'

'Great.'

**Author's Note:**

> I should have been revising cardiology today but the only thing I learned is that my heart just wants Jon Sims to be happy.  
> Maybe I won't procrastinate tomorrow???
> 
> if you liked it, please consider reading my other stories [here](https://archiveofourown.org/users/writevale) <3


End file.
